


Like Vine to Tree

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Growing a Garden [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Size Kink, a coda type thing for the ppf fic because i thought the boys deserved their own fic, these two dorks are ridiculous and i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: As Harry keeps reminding Eggsy, everyone leaves. Tequila will leave. And getting attached is just going to make it hurt more.But Harry has also been getting very attached to a certain Scottish sculptor recently, so what does he know?





	Like Vine to Tree

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about just calling this "Entwined" (cause titling is the worst) but I thought that might be too corny. So now it's just implied. Not my best work, but I couldn't get these two out of my head since the Painted Petals Fest, so here's a little snippet with their story.

Eggsy is completely willing to admit he doesn’t have the first clue what he’s doing. It ain’t like he doesn’t know how to flirt – he does, and he’s fucking aces at it, in his humble opinion – but Tequila’s a bit different from most of the people he’s tried to seduce into bed. For one thing, he’s older than Eggsy. Like, a full decade older than him. Not that it bothers Eggsy, because they’re both consenting adults and Tequila has the personality of a youthful golden retriever, but Eggsy is pretty sure Tequila is more experienced than him simply by virtue of him being older and Eggsy doesn’t want to come across as some dumb kid lusting after his substitute teacher.

He has no idea where that fantasy image came from or why it seems to apply to Tequila so well.

Then there’s the fact that Tequila is surprisingly shy. That’s not to say he’s not fun or confident, but occasionally they’ll be horsing around in the gardens or joking over dinner and Tequila will go quiet and blush and his shoulders will hunch up like he’s trying to be smaller than he is. Eggsy can’t track a pattern in it, other than the fact that Tequila doesn’t like talking much about why he’s on a working retreat with Ginger. Or how he got the job in the first place. Or what it was like working in a rodeo. Or just about anything having to do with his personal history.

He does like to talk about his family, though. He’s got a lot of cousins that he loves to tell stories about, and he loves to hear stories about Daisy in return, and Eggsy thinks he’s half in love with the idea of starting a family with Tequila just because of the way he talks about kids, all bright-eyed and full of wonder and excitement. And that’s the strangest part of all, because Eggsy knows Tequila will be leaving. He knows that anything that could even potentially happen between them is going to be temporary. Thoughts about settling down and all that white picket fence shit don’t mean a thing. As Harry keeps reminding him, everyone leaves. Tequila will leave. And getting attached is just going to make it hurt more.

But Harry has also been getting very attached to a certain Scottish sculptor recently – Eggsy loves his artwork, it’s so fucking cool, but that’s beside the point – so what does he know?

The flirting is fun, and if it turns into a tumble in the sheets, well, Eggsy is very much down for that. If not, he still likes Tequila. Hanging out with him is fun. Eggsy would be an idiot to give up on making a friend just because that friend might be leaving soon.

It is the twenty-first century, after all, and the boarding house has a surprisingly good internet connection.

In the end, Tequila solves the problem for him. They’re out in the butterfly garden, sprawled out in the grass and watching the sun start to set beyond the trees. Merlin and Harry strode past at one point, too hurried to be casual, and Eggsy mentally congratulates Harry for finally getting some.

Tequila isn’t paying attention. He’s flat on his back, staring up at the sky. “It’s nice here. Reminds me of home.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy looks down at him. Tequila’s fully cowboyed up today, and his hat is cocked off his head, the brim smushing into the ground beneath him.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere and you can see all the stars as they come out. It’s just like home. ‘Cept less farm animals and I don’t have to wake up before dawn. Working for Ginger’s great, but I hate the city.”

“The city’s okay.” The city has his mum and Daisy and a couple of his friends. But it also doesn’t have Harry or James or Alistair. And it doesn’t have Tequila.

They’re both quiet for a moment, the only sound the wind rustling through the bushes and crickets beginning to chirp. Then, Tequila says, “I’m gonna miss this place.”

Without really thinking about it, Eggsy says, “I’ll miss you.”

Tequila sits up. “Really?”

“’Course. You make me laugh and you’re all kinds of hot. We don’t get that sort of eye candy around here often. Except for Merlin, but he’s, like, ancient.”

Tequila laughs, and Eggsy joins in, giggling. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know,” Tequila tells him. “But I ain’t going yet. We got plenty of time.” He eyes Eggsy, who feels a little thrill run down his spine. “Feel free to smack me if I’m being too forward, but while I’m here…I mean, you did say I was hot, and you ain’t bad yourself…”

“Yeah?”

“I like you. And, if you like me, we might as well do something about that, don’t you think?”

Eggsy lunges forward, tackling him to the ground and kissing him.

Eventually, snogging on the ground turns towards running for the house, and Eggsy chases Tequila to his bedroom. Tequila shuts the door behind them, backing Eggsy up against it and dropping his hat on Eggsy’s head. He grins. Eggsy tilts the hat back, pushing it out of his face, and peers up at Tequila. “You look real cute,” the taller man tells him. He’s inching into Eggsy’s space and Eggsy really doesn’t mind. He lifts his chin when Tequila puts a finger under it, his lips parting.

This kiss is slower, and Tequila gives him plenty of time to back away. When Eggsy doesn’t, he seals their lips together, kissing softly and sweetly.

Eggsy isn’t especially interested in soft and sweet. He grips Tequila’s hip and tugs him forward, grinding against him. Tequila swears against his lips and bucks forward, and the kiss turns filthy, Tequila’s tongue swiping into his mouth, and Eggsy moans.

Tequila shoves him backwards until they meet the door, then hitches Eggsy up. Eggsy just manages to jump, wrapping his legs around Tequila’s waist, and Tequila presses against him, panting eagerly, and Eggsy can feel all of him like this, and he tightens his grip because _oh_ , he definitely wants to find out if that’s a trick, or if everything really is bigger in America.

He fumbles a hand between them, and considering how stupidly oversized Tequila’s belt buckle is, it’s a little frustrating that he can’t seem to grab it properly.

Tequila pulls his hand away, pinning it against the doorframe, his lips doing things that would turn Eggsy’s legs to jello, were they not wrapped around Tequila. Eggsy whines, “Come on, babe. Want to feel you.”

“In a minute,” Tequila tells him, the words muffled against his neck. He nips at Eggsy’s pulse point.

“Now,” Eggsy counters. He has very little leverage in this position, so he opts instead for surging forward, his free arm hooking around Tequila’s neck, and hauling himself upright so he can bite at Tequila’s ear.

Tequila groans. “Pushy.”

“Trousers off, cowboy, or I’m leaving and you can take care of yourself.”

Tequila bounces him against the door, the wood creaking in protest, and Eggsy yelps, the cowboy hat tilting dangerously and then giving up altogether and dropping to the floor. Tequila grins. “Someone’s mighty cocky.” But he gets his hand between them and deftly undoes the buckle on his belt, then unzips his jeans and pushes them down. Eggsy’s mouth waters because the bulge in Tequila’s pants looks about as big as it felt and he really wants to get a hand around it. So he does.

Tequila curses and bucks into his grip, and Eggsy groans and squeezes again because oh yeah, everything is fucking bigger in America and this is going to feel amazing inside him. “Tell me you’ve got lube,” Eggsy begs.

Tequila goes to put him down, but Eggsy doesn’t let him. Tequila presses their foreheads together. “Really don’t think up against a wall is the best place for this.”

“Why not?” Eggsy whines. “‘S hot.”

“Believe it or not, I’m pretty sure I can’t keep you pinned like this much longer.”

Eggsy pouts. “You calling me fat?”

Tequila drops another kiss on his lips. “I’m calling myself old. I’m not a spring chicken anymore.”

“You ain’t that old,” Eggsy says. “And you’re well fit.”

“Thank you, baby,” Tequila grins, “but flattery ain’t getting you fucked against a wall.”

“Technically it’s a door, not a wall,” Eggsy says, but he lets Tequila set him down. He flops onto the bed, unbuttoning his trousers and sliding his hand in, toying with his cock as he watches Tequila strip off the rest of his clothes and then rummage around in the nightstand for the lube. He’s comfortable in his own skin; Eggsy isn’t sure he’d be nearly so confident walking around naked, but Tequila wears his birthday suit with the same sort of ease James wears a real suit.

He catches Eggsy staring and grins. “Like what you see?”

Eggsy squeezes himself again and then takes his hand out of his trousers, making a grabbing gesture at Tequila. Tequila obliges, straddling Eggsy’s lap easily and leaning down to kiss him. Eggsy lets him, opening his mouth happily as Tequila sucks on his tongue and rolls his hips down against Eggsy’s, barely brushing, giving the tiniest hint of friction.

“Don’t tease,” Eggsy mumbles.

“I ain’t teasing, baby,” Tequila whispers back. He rucks Eggsy’s shirt up, and Eggsy lifts his arms and helps him take it off. Tequila leaves a trail of bite marks down Eggsy’s neck, murmuring against the skin, “I’m gonna make you feel good. Promise.”

Still, he’s going too slow. It’s maddening for Eggsy as Tequila explores with his lips and tongue, tracing his nipple and then kissing each mole he finds speckled across Eggsy’s skin. Eggsy squirms and whines and tries to touch himself, but Tequila bats his hands away every time. “Tequila, babe, please,” Eggsy begs. “I’m dying here.”

“James.”

“What?”

Tequila lifts his head from where he’s been nibbling infuriatingly at Eggsy’s partially exposed hipbone. “Call me James.”

“James,” Eggsy says, getting a feel for it on his tongue, letting his brain figure out how to associate the word with the smoking hot American on top of him and not the fussy Brit he works with. He cards his fingers through Tequila’s hair and repeats, “James.”

Tequila rewards him by getting his hands under Eggsy and peeling him out of his trousers and pants, Eggsy’s cock springing free. He’s so fucking hard, precum slicking most of the shaft, the head dark red and throbbing. Eggsy wonders if he should be embarrassed, because Tequila doesn’t seem nearly as affected as he is, but then all thoughts fly from his head as Tequila wraps his lips around Eggsy’s cock and sinks down.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he gasps, his fingers tightening in Tequila’s hair. “ _James_ , holy fuck.”

Tequila sucks cock like he’s trying to get an Olympic medal in it. Eggsy can barely breathe, fighting desperately to suck in breaths as Tequila bobs his head, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks and working his tongue expertly against the shaft. “Oh god,” Eggsy whimpers, and Tequila fucking laughs, the vibrations skating up and down Eggsy’s spine before diving for his bollocks. Tequila takes him deep, relaxing his throat until the head slips down it, and then he swallows, and Eggsy scrambles, trying to push him away. “Wait, babe, stop.”

Tequila resurfaces, looking worried. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

Eggsy gapes at him. “What? That was the best blowjob of my fucking life, and you want to know if you did something wrong?”

“You told me to stop.”

“Because if you kept going I was going to blow my load down your throat.”

Tequila blinks, frowning in confusion and then lifting his eyebrows. “That was sort of the point, darlin’.”

“Want to come with you inside me, though,” Eggy says, and Tequila’s eyes darken, but he smirks.

“I don’t see why we can’t have both,” he says. “How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Eggsy doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on in his life. “Fucking awesome. Yeah, let’s…let’s do that.”

Tequila’s grin widens, and he goes right back down, Eggsy’s cock disappearing into his mouth like the world’s hottest magic trick. Tequila throws Eggsy’s knees over his shoulders to get a better angle, and Eggsy whimpers and fights not to buck into the wet, hot suction. He’s on edge, has been for what feels like ages, barrelling towards release.

Tequila hums something around his cock and Eggsy explodes, gasping as his vision whites out and his cock pulses on Tequila’s tongue. Tequila swallows with practiced ease and pulls back.

“Was that the fucking Star-Spangled Banner?” is the first thing that Eggsy’s tongue says when it reconnects to his brain.

Tequila laughs but doesn’t give him an answer. “You got condoms?” he asks instead. “Wasn’t exactly planning for this when I packed.”

“Why, think you might get me pregnant?” Eggsy bitches at him, mostly just to tease. “Hang on.” He crawls reluctantly out of bed, finding his trousers and, more importantly, the wallet he keeps in his pocket. “Got one,” he says. “What kind of vacation is it if you don’t pack expecting to fuck someone?”

“A work one,” Tequila reminds him.

“We could always go without,” Eggsy offers. Tequila has made himself comfy on the bed, sprawled on his back and petting lazily at his cock, which is thick and throbbing (and possibly too big for the condom Eggsy has, although he thinks it’ll be okay) and leaking at the tip. Eggsy straddles his thighs, reaching for the lube and popping the cap, dumping a generous amount into his palm and wrapping his fingers around Tequila’s erection. He slides his hand slowly down – Tequila moans and bucks up into it – and says, “I’m clean, and I trust you.”

“Really shouldn’t,” Tequila manages. He gets a hand around Eggsy’s wrist, moving Eggsy away from his cock. “Trust me, sweetheart, I do…or did, I guess, a lot of shit. Some of it involving unprotected sex and needles that may or may not have been previously used. I wasn’t really paying attention at the time. And we’re still waiting on the results from my screening, so I’ve got at least another week before I find out if there are any other consequences I gotta live with. I’d rather not risk passing any of that onto you.”

Eggsy frowns as he processes that information. Tequila’s tone is a strange combination of self-deprecating and accepting. Tequila adds, “Probably should have mentioned that before. It’s alright if you want to leave now.”

“I ain’t going anywhere,” Eggsy tells him. He’s seen what drugs and shit can do to a person, and he’s well familiar with the circumstances that often lead to them. He strokes his hand down Tequila’s chest. “We’ll use a condom,” he says. “But we’re gonna need to get more. I’m gonna want a lot more than one ride, cowboy.”

Tequila laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. “I’m sure we can work something out. But for now…”

Eggsy grins. “For now, you’re gonna have some work to do, because that thing ain’t going in me without a fuckton of prep.”

“Yessir.” Tequila flips them over before Eggsy can blink, spreading Eggsy’s thighs apart to make room between them for his bulky frame. There’s a bit of lube on his fingers, but apparently not enough, because he gropes for the bottle, and Eggsy pushes it towards him, watching as Tequila upends it over his hand.

“Think you got enough?” Eggsy asks, propping himself up on his elbows and watching, amused. “It ain’t like you’re gonna fist me.”

“Not tonight,” Tequila agrees, and slides one finger inside Eggsy up to the second knuckle. Eggsy thumps back down against the bed, moaning eagerly and rocking back against it as Tequila crooks it curiously. He finds the bump of Eggsy’s prostate and presses against the little nub, and Eggsy groans again, louder than before.

“Hurry up,” he whines. “Stop fucking about down there and get me open.”

“Impatient,” Tequila chides, but he gives Eggsy a second finger anyway, scissoring them apart to spread him wider.

“The faster you get your cock in me, the happier I’ll be.”

“Well ain’t that romantic,” Tequila snarks, but he can’t keep a straight face, and Eggsy ends up laughing with him.

“You can do all the romantic shit when you’re actually inside me,” Eggsy teases, then hisses as Tequila eases in a third finger. It feels too tight now; Tequila’s fingers are long and broad like the rest of him, and Eggsy squirms and bites back a whimper as they stretch him, and a flash of worry goes through him because it’s been ages since he did this with anyone and never with someone as big as Tequila and oh god, what if he doesn’t fit?

A flick to his nipple makes him gasp, jolting back to attention, and Tequila cocks his head. “You still with me, baby?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy pants. “Yeah, still here.”

“You good?”

“I’m good.” He is, he thinks. It’s a little intense, and he’s panicking a tiny bit, but he’s not scared.

“Alright,” Tequila says. He spreads his fingers inside Eggsy, and Eggsy swallows hard and bites down on his tongue. It takes a minute, but eventually he manages to relax, moaning as Tequila’s ministrations go from feeling a bit too tight to absolutely perfect. He gets up to a fourth finger, lube dripping out of Eggsy’s hole and down his legs.

Eggsy whines. “I think you’re good, babe, come on. Fuck me, please?”

Tequila doesn’t respond, just withdraws his fingers and tears open the condom wrapper, rolling it down his cock and slicking himself up. “It fit okay?” Eggsy asks, relaxing his legs to combat the ache starting to spread through them from holding himself open.

“It’ll work. Definitely gonna need the next size up if you want to do this again, though.” Tequila coaxes him back into position, shifting between Eggsy’s thighs and taking his sheathed cock in hand, lining it up, the mushroomed head pushing at Eggsy’s rim and sparking shivers along his skin.

It feels even bigger like this, where Eggsy can’t see it, and he pants, gripping hard to Tequila’s shoulders. “Wait,” he says, and Tequila freezes, the tip of his cock still pressed to Eggsy’s hole. “Go slow,” Eggsy says.

“Of course,” Tequila agrees easily. He uses his free hand to reach up and squeeze Eggsy’s. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, baby. That’s the last thing I wanna do.”

It’s reassuring, and Eggsy nods. “Okay,” he says. “Alright, you can go now.”

Tequila grins, and then he’s pushing and _oh, holy fuck_. Eggsy grips his hand so tight he thinks he might be crushing some of Tequila’s bones, but he can’t make himself care because Tequila’s splitting him in fucking half and yet somehow it feels _good_ , not like he’s being torn apart but like his body is opening up, making room for what feels like – and he’s exaggerating, he knows – his partner trying to cram a cricket bat up inside him. Or maybe baseball bat is more accurate, Tequila being American and all. There is a tiny sting of pain, but it’s overwhelmed by how good the drag of Tequila’s cock feels as he dips in and out, rocking himself into Eggsy’s body in increments, each thrust sparking along Eggsy’s walls and making it a struggle to stay relaxed.

Tequila bottoms out, and Eggsy can’t stop himself, his body clamping around the intrusion like it’s trying to eject it or suck it in deeper. He can’t tell which. But it makes Tequila groan, his fingers tightening around Eggsy’s. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he mutters.

“Says the guy with the footlong dick inside me.”

“It is _not_ -” Tequila’s protest is cut off by Eggsy clenching again, and Tequila growls and grabs at Eggsy’s hips. “You are making it very hard for me not to fuck the cheek right out of you.”

“Go ahead,” Eggsy beams.

But Tequila’s first thrust is gentle, a shallow stroke that makes Eggsy grunt in frustration and shove his hips back. Like this, he doesn’t have any leverage against Tequila’s grip, so his efforts do nothing. “Come on,” he whines. “Harder.”

And Tequila obliges. He pulls back and then slams home, and Eggsy howls. “Holy fuck!” Tequila just grunts and starts up a rhythm, the headboard slamming against the wall, and Eggsy has to reach up and brace himself so he doesn’t knock his head against it, the force of Tequila’s thrusts sliding him up the bed. He’s big enough that he doesn’t even need to try to hit Eggsy’s prostate, the fat head nailing it with each slide, and Eggsy’s entire body feels like a livewire, too tense and too loose at the same time, like he’s floating on a thundercloud that keeps shocking him.

It feels incredible.

Apparently Tequila feels the same way, because he moans and presses his forehead into Eggsy’s shoulder. It changes the angle of his thrust, the snapping of his hips slowing but not getting any softer, still ploughing into Eggsy in spite of the little pants Tequila lets out. “I don’t think…” Tequila is breathless, and it takes him two tries to get out, “I don’t think I can last long, baby. You’re so good, you feel so good.”

“You gonna come?” The words come out choppy, each thrust cutting off a bit of Eggsy’s breath. “Come on, James, want you to fill me up.”

Tequila actually whimpers, screwing his hips, and part of Eggsy feels the absurd desire to pet and coo at him like a puppy dog. The rest of him groans in pleasure. “Don’t hold back. Want to feel you.”

Tequila is chanting under his breath, something that sounds a lot like the word ‘sorry’ over and over again, but his cock is twitching and swelling and Eggsy forces his body to squeeze tight around the thick intrusion and Tequila’s mantra is broken in favour of swearing loudly and filling the condom, his hips stilling as he braces himself against the mattress. Eggsy reaches for his cock, working himself in quick strokes.

He doesn’t make it to the edge before Tequila comes back down, and the first expression that crosses his face is guilt. “I’m so sorry, baby. Let me get that for you.” He wraps his massive hand around Eggsy’s cock, the rough callouses catching at the underside just right, and it doesn’t take more than a few more strokes for Eggsy to come, painting streaks across Tequila’s hand and his own stomach. Eggsy groans and slumps down on the mattress, boneless and sated.

Tequila gets up to dispose of the condom, then comes back to bed, sitting on the edge of it and fidgeted with the bedspread. Eggsy cracks an eye open. “You coming down for a cuddle or what?”

Tequila doesn’t look at him. “You sure you don’t want me to leave?”

Eggsy frowns and props himself up. He doesn’t like this shy, skittish Tequila. He wants the shy, confident one back. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“I fucked up.”

“Babe, if that’s you fucking up, proper sex must be like, I dunno, Olympics worthy or some shit, because that was fucking aces.”

Tequila squirms, going for his pants and tugging them back on, then searching around for his shirt. Eggsy surges upright, wrapping his hand around Tequila’s wrist, and Tequila freezes. “What’s going on?” Eggsy asks. “Talk to me.”

“I didn’t…you wanted to come while I was inside you and instead I get off in like a minute and leave you hanging.”

Eggsy blinks. “Okay, first of all, you didn’t leave me hanging. I don’t know if you missed it but,” he gestures to the sticky ropes of drying cum painting his torso, “I still came. Twice, actually.”

“But-“

“Look, shit happens. I fucking loved it, and I’m pretty sure you at least liked it, so it’s all good, okay? We’re good.”

Tequila doesn’t look convinced. Eggsy sighs. “James, babe, listen.” He can’t believe he has to say this to a man a full decade older than him. “Sex won’t always gonna be perfect, right? But the options ain’t just perfect or awful. Sometimes sex is just good, and sometimes it’s not perfect but it’s still fucking great, and what we just did? Fucking great. I’m not mad at you or whatever you’re thinking.” He pauses. “Okay, maybe I’m a little mad at you, because instead of finishing off awesome sex by cuddling the really hot guy who just made me come _twice_ , now I have to reassure him that me coming twice wasn’t just some fluke, that I actually fucking loved it. Did I mention I came twice?” Tequila cracks a smile, and Eggsy grins in triumph. “That’s about as good as it gets.”

Tequila studies the floor. His voice is soft and shy, but it doesn’t sound quite so nervous anymore when he says, “I’m sorry. I’m not…it’s been a while for me. Well, awhile that I remember properly, anyway. I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“You didn’t,” Eggsy promises. He bites his lip in his most seductive ‘come hither’ expression – he absolutely practiced it in the mirror when he was first trying to figure out how to seduce Tequila, and you will pry that information from his cold, dead body – and adds, “and if you’re really that concerned about your performance, we can try again tomorrow. After we’ve made a condom run.” He glances towards the bottle, which somehow made its way onto the floor in the middle of everything. “Might need more lube too.”

Tequila laughs. “Redemption. I can do that.”

“Ain’t nothing to redeem,” Eggsy says, “but I ain’t about to stop you from trying to top that.” He beckons to Tequila, who obliges and crawls back into bed with him, allowing Eggsy to curl around his back, spooning him. Eggsy noses along his shoulders, pressing a few absentminded kisses to the sun-spot freckles dotting the skin.

Morning brings with it mutual handjobs – Eggsy fucking loves Tequila’s hands – and it’s absolutely worth the shit he gets over breakfast from Harry and James, especially because he can tease Harry right back about him finally getting it on with Merlin.

The afternoon brings with it a condom and lube run, and that makes everything even more worth it.

***

Long-distance is the hardest fucking thing Eggsy has ever done. Not so much in the sense that people tend to talk about – believe it or not, the thought of cheating on Tequila hadn’t even crossed his mind, and he really doesn’t get why people have that problem when he has his hand and frequent Skype calls with his boyfriend and that works just fine – but in the sense that he’s always been an affectionate person and not being able to crawl into Tequila’s lap for a good cuddle after a long day is a struggle he hadn’t expected.

But touching down in Kentucky, seeing Tequila in the airport and hurling himself into his boyfriend’s arms, makes everything feel okay again.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tequila murmurs. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Eggsy says, and kisses him. Tequila wraps him up a little tighter, and Eggsy stands on his tiptoes. Neither of them breaks the hug for a very long time.

Long-distance is hard, but if Harry can finally suck it up and get together with Merlin after all that moping and pining, Eggsy can make it work with a boyfriend across the ocean. Because Tequila is worth it.


End file.
